There is a ghost at the musical feast that is the New York City Center “Encores!” revival of Ragtime (to Nov. 10)—the presidential election on Tuesday.
Ragtime is about the possibility and impossibility of the American dream as filtered through violent racism and bigotry, and all the iniquities and injustices flowing from that. In opposition: the fight and impetus for change, as represented by the musical style of the show’s title, and the brutal forces ranged against that change; the timing of this semi-staged revival is straight, ouch, bang on the nose.
The scramblingly told adaptation of E.L. Doctorow’s 1975 novel about American social change between 1902 and 1912 features music by Stephen Flaherty, lyrics by Lynn Ahrens, and a book by Terrence McNally. It blends the stories of a Black pianist from Harlem, Coalhouse Walker Jr. (a stupendous Joshua Henry), his sweetheart Sarah (Nichelle Lewis), Latvian Jewish immigrant Tateh (Brandon Uranowitz), his daughter (Tabitha Lawing), and a rich white family from New Rochelle (Colin Donnell as Father, Caissie Levy as Mother, Matthew Lamb as their future-seeing son).
There are significant walk-ons from Ben Levi Ross as Mother’s radical younger brother), Suffs mastermind Shaina Taub as Emma Goldman, Tom Nelis as the curmudgeonly Grandfather, and Rodd Cyrus as an (appropriately) randomly appearing and disappearing Harry Houdini. Music director James Moore leads a sonorously perfect orchestra, even as the book of the show remains an odd maze, with wild swings in tone and character and plot, and possibly the worst song about baseball at the weirdest possible moment—i.e. when you least want a funny song about baseball.
Congratulations if you watch Ragtime in 2024—it won four Tony Awards when it premiered on Broadway in 1998—without thinking of the gale of ugly social forces unleashed by Trumpism, where dog whistles have long been replaced by foghorns. For others, watching Black and Jewish people treated as the rejected-other, with all the verbal (the N-word is used freely on stage) and physical violence that comes with such officially sanctioned prejudice, Ragtime feels like a prophetic bell from the past tolling straight as a warning to the present day.
However, if Harris wins, the tone and spiked optimism of the show—America can be better; will be better—that is most resonant in the song “Wheels of a Dream” may reach a positive, if exhausted fruition.
In this sense, Ragtime, directed by Tony-nominated Encores! Artistic Director Lear deBessonet, has a curious weight to bear. We look back to a past based in an ugly reality from the vantage point of a present day that should know better. Yet we know in the modern day that the modern day being sung towards has either failed these characters, or only partially, rather than resoundingly, succeeded.
And so, at least until late Tuesday night, or who knows when, the vein of heartfelt optimism of Ragtime feels as nervously in stasis as American voters. After Tuesday, whether a Harris or Trump victory is announced, the whole feeling of the show, or rather watching and receiving the show, will change.
One thing that will be universally applauded at whatever time it is seen is the thrill of watching Joshua Henry sing. The only variable is how elated or wrecked his powerhouse performance will leave you (he says he cries himself thinking about the company-sung “New Music” as it “embodies belief in newness, hope, and second chances”).
Henry’s voice swells and recedes like its own relentless ocean (in songs like “Justice,” and “Wheels of a Dream” alongside Lewis), rousingly animating all his songs of injustice, determination, and yearning. Besides the election, another unknown question is whether the walls and roof of City Center will survive Henry’s glorious performance.
Levy and Uranowitz charm and hold their sections of the stage; the former as a rich white wife who finds in her husband’s absence on an expedition to the North Pole a liberation he returns to quickly quash and suppress. Levy brings steeliness and measure (especially in her big number, “Back to Before”) to a too-subtly drawn portrait of a woman straining for independence. Donnell has a thankless role, and his racist and boorish character’s journey towards some kind of redemption implausible.
Like Uranowitz, Levy mines the sporadic outbreaks of comedy of Ragtime—comedy that can feel weird but is much appreciated, given the tragedy and social injustice of the main narrative. Uranowitz’s Tateh is both striver and fierce widowed protector of a daughter. Your heart churns every time they are nearly separated. Uranowitz sparkles with mischief and blithe charm. He won’t accept the second class citizenship conferred upon him; humor and fierce determination are his weapons. Lewis is also impressive as Sarah, even if her character is too bowed down by tragedy, and her impressive voice sometimes feels submerged beneath the musical accompaniment.
Time will quite literally tell how this partially staged revival progresses—the gold standard is an Encores! hit like Into the Woods which headed on to a gilded, critically and audience-adored Broadway run. Yet the melodically thunderous presence of Henry and this phenomenal company—they meld so beautifully as a choral collective—is reason enough to book a ticket.
The question is: how will the show feel on whatever night you see it before its Nov. 10 closing? Depending on what happens on Tuesday, the roof and walls of City Center may yet shake even more forcefully. “Make Them Hear You” the company sings at the end. We shall see.
